


How About a Ride?

by runboyrun



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crying, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Facials, Foursome, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Group Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Overstimulation, Third Gym (Haikyuu!!)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runboyrun/pseuds/runboyrun
Summary: “Why don’t you just come to my place?”It’s an innocent enough offer except how it isn’t. Tsukishima knows it isn’t - he doesn’t even need to see the grin on Kuroo’s face when he can practically feel it.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 49
Kudos: 746





	How About a Ride?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wickednasty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickednasty/gifts).



> double penetration has become my brand and i can't even pretend to be mad about it.

Training camps in Tokyo were more frequent now that Karasuno was a bonafide powerhouse again, building up and crammed into long weekends between exams and essays and a book report Tsukishima _knew_ Yamaguchi hadn’t done yet. Third year or not; they couldn’t start slacking now. A four day trip was staring them down in Tokyo.

Two years ago? Fuck volleyball. Tsukishima has work to do. But now…? Well. _Captain_ Yamaguchi would be upset if Tsukishima slacked off. And upset Yamaguchi is hard to look at. His lip wobbles and his eyes get wide like that’ll stop the tears and Tsukishima _hates_ it -

So he’s at the third training camp this semester alone. And he’s behind on two papers.

 **KUROO TETSUROU:** **  
** Why don’t you just come to my place???  
(´• ω •`)

It’s an innocent enough offer except how it _isn’t._ Tsukishima knows it isn’t - he doesn’t even need to see the grin on Kuroo’s face when he can practically _feel_ it.

 **ME:**  
no.

 **KUROO TETSUROU:** **  
** \\(ಥ﹏ಥ)/

Yamaguchi pretends he doesn’t notice Tsukishima’s snort, because he’s a considerate human being and the only third year Tsukishima isn’t actively ready to kill. Hinata the monster midget ace of Karasuno, however, is going to end up dead before their next rest stop.

The new libero is a good enough kid, solid defence whenever something slips past Tsukishima, and he definitely doesn’t need Hinata trying to teach him _while the bus is moving_.

The pen in Tsukishima’s hand is sent flying by a stray ball. Ukai is up and yelling with Takeda quietly scolding from the driver’s seat. But the damage is done. A giant tear through the middle of Tsukishima’s papers. His literature teacher was enough of an ass to not take it with tape to repair it. He’d have to rewrite it. 

Yamaguchi leans closer to whisper, “Maybe staying with Kuroo wouldn’t be so bad?”

“We’re supposed to stay in the dorms,” Tsukishima answers while shoving all his school work into his bag. Normally he sleeps on the bus. Normally he doesn’t have this much shit to do.

“But Kuroo-san has been assistant coaching for Nekoma, he has to come in the mornings before practice would start anyway,” Yamaguchi grabs his lost pen from the aisle. “Actual bed to sleep in, quiet space to work -”

“- I’d sleep on the couch.”

Yamaguchi raises a brow. Tsukishima pretends he doesn’t know what that means.

Nationals last year had been a shorter ride than their first year. Miya twins put up enough of a fight to send them back early. Tanaka and Noya, true sportsmen, had snagged enough liquor courtesy of Saeko to drink the entire team under the table. Ukai had been too drunk to notice anyway. Kuroo and Yaku had tagged along with the current Nekoma roster, also eliminated that day, and made it an impromptu party. 

Tsukishima hadn’t planned to drink a lot, even if the defeat did sting. He certainly hadn’t planned to end up pinned to wall by his ‘blocking master’ as Hinata called him. But Kuroo’s tongue was down his throat and Tsukishima’s glasses were on the floor and a leg was around Kuroo’s hip. 

Kuroo cornered him the next morning, not letting Tsukishima sneak his way back to the bus before talking about whatever the hell had happened. A whispered argument later and Tsukishima nearly bit his tongue off after _confessing_ his _feelings_ like an _idiot_. He hadn’t even really realized he had feelings to begin with about any of it. But Kuroo’s face went red enough to make Tsukishima bark a laugh which helped a little with his own embarrassment.

A number was plugged into his phone and a quiet begging to meet up once his semester was over and a kiss to his cheek that left him more flustered than any of the necking the night before. 

Yamaguchi tried to not laugh at him when Tsukishima realized he’d boarded the bus in a NEKOMA VOLLEYBALL CLUB shirt. Noya did not provide the same courtesy.

But things didn’t… evolve from that. Not much anyway. College was busy for Kuroo and Senior year was busy for Tsukishima and there was a two hour bullet train ride to even meet up at all. He hadn’t seen Kuroo in weeks. Two weeks. And three days. 

“I’m just saying,” Yamaguchi sighs, eyes wide like he doesn’t know how much of a brat he’s being, “I’m sure he misses you. And he has a place to himself now. And you’re rude when you haven’t come for long -”

“- shut _up_ , Yamaguchi” Tsukishima hisses, hand slapping over Yamaguchi’s laugh. 

The silence settled back between them, bus calmer with sleeping first years and _Hinata-senpai_ demanding no one wake them. 

“You know,” Yamaguchi murmurs, smiling wide, “If you have to commute to his place, no one will expect you to do any extra training.”

Well.

 **ME:** **  
** if you steal both pillows again i’m kicking you out of bed.

 **KUROO TETSUROU:** **  
** (☆ω☆) ﾉo.｡.:*☆

 **ME:** **  
** and you’re carrying my stuff. 

**KUROO TETSUROU:** ****  
Of course darling  
(っ˘ω˘ς )

Tsukishima tugs on his headphones before Yamaguchi can see how pink his ears get.

Kuroo doesn’t sweep Tsukishima into his arms when the third year hops off the bus because he clearly has some sense of survival instinct. He does, however, call across the parking lot like there aren’t four other buses unloading.

“Oh _my,_ how tall you’ve gotten!” The tone is saccharin and nauseating and the underclassmen are too in awe of Kuroo to notice how Tsukishima’s eye twitches.

“I’m 5’6 now!” Hinata yells across the lot, arms waving as he runs to Kuroo in greeting instead of helping unpack the bus.

“Wow, shortie,” Kuroo laughs, just as happy to see the redhead, “I could’ve sworn you shrank.”

The squawk in response grates Tsukishima’s ears. 

The matches are as brutal as Tsukishima remembers, no one taking Karasuno lightly with two national placements under their belts. Kuroo is especially cruel, grin manic as he yells instructions to Tsukishima even as they’re mid-match against each other. Just to make him mad. Rile him up. Tsukishima wishes he was above falling for it. But they both know he isn’t.

The newest wall is strong, Kuroo is an excellent assistant coach, but Tsukishima is better. Even with a two set win on Nekoma, Kuroo looks proud. Tsukishima pretends he doesn’t see it. Like they both don’t know Kuroo’s egging was what made Tsukishima jump higher, move faster, reach farther. 

Tsukishima is shoving his bag into Kuroo’s arms before anyone can yell about dinner or “one more serve”s 

“Don’t want the managers' cooking?” Kuroo asks, already shouldering the duffel.

“You’re buying me dinner.”

“Of course, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Kuroo just laughs. 

It’s during dinner that Kuroo confesses they won’t be alone tomorrow night. Akaashi and Bokuto are making the trip to help mentor tomorrow as a surprise and Kuroo offered his place since Bokuto avoided hotels like a plague when he could.

“Did you offer to me or them first?” Tsukishima drones with an unimpressed look.

“Well,” Kuroo laughs, mouth full, “I did just ask you four hours ago. I don’t have a guest room but I’ve got a spare futon they can use.”

“Tacky.”

“Yep,” Kuroo agrees easily with another bite. Tsukishima is pretty sure it’s impossible to rile him up. Or maybe it’s just impossible for Tsukishima. He never takes the bait, just laughs like he can see right through the insults. Once, only once, did Kuroo just snort and call him “Tsukkidere-chan” His shin was bruised for a week.

Tsukishima is a little relieved that Kuroo isn’t bothered. That he knows what Tsukishima means even when he never says it. Only a little though.

Tsukishima scoops a chunk of his chicken onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo just smiles and digs in. Tsukishima looks away before he can react.

\-----

“God,” Kuroo grunts, “How are you so tight?” 

Tsukishima is pretty sure that’s rhetorical, and with two fingers curling deep inside him it’s a little hard to think. But he finds a way.

“I-It’s not like I’m, _hhh_ , doing this every day, you a- _aah_ -ss,”

Kuroo ducks low, biting Tsukishima’s nape as his chest curls flush against the other’s back, “Pretty sure you came on your own fingers when I talked you through it last week.”

Goddammit. The keen that rips from Tsukishima’s throat is almost as awful as the wet noises of Kuroo working him open.

“Yeah,” Kuroo hums, voice deep and mocking, “You cried so sweet for me, fucking yourself open even if it ‘ _isn’t the same as you, Kuroo,”_

“I swear to god,” Tsukishima spits, “If you don’t shut up,”

“What?” Kuroo squeaks in a third and Tsukishima squeaks into his fist, “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Tsukishima can’t grit out anything that’s going to sound dignified. He settles for an elbow in Kuroo’s ribs. Kuroo uses his free hand to yank Tsukishima’s arms out from under him. Face squished into the sheets and wrists captured against the small of his back.

“You know, sometimes I think you’re mean just so I’ll be mean to you,” Kuroo hums, like he hadn’t figured that out and called Tsukishima on it months ago. “If you want me to wreck you, you’ll have to ask nicely.”

The stretch of his cock still has Tsukishima gagging, even after all the times he’s impaled himself on it. It’s overwhelming each time, wide and demanding and making Tsukishima’s insides rearranged to suit him.

Kuroo pets down Tsukishima’s side after wiping the excess lube on his own thigh. Gentle and patient while Tsukishima shakes and breathes through the adjustment. He doesn’t move even after Tsukishima relaxes. Even as Tsukishima tries to rock back only to be held by the wrists still in Kuroo’s grip.

“Ask me.” He says.

“Now,” Tsukishima growls.

“ _Nicely_.”

One of Tsukishima’s hands flips him off, with a snapped, “ _Now.”_

Kuroo laughs and fucks him so slowly Tsukishima is amazed he doesn’t die from being kept on the edge.

\-----

“When I said avoiding extra training… I sorta assumed you’d sleep.” Yamaguchi whispers with delight in his eyes. Tsukishima isn’t sure if it’s the limp or the hickey that gave him away first. But either way he’s killing Kuroo. “Go run blocking drills for me with the first years while I do serves with the seconds.”

Tsukishima gathers the six first years and they’re all thankfully smart or scared enough of him to not comment. He leads them to the far wall with tape marking the wall for measurement on jumps. Kuroo is guiding someone on diving more safely when he winks as they pass.

The first years suffer.

\-----

“You’re such a tough senpai,” Kuroo laughs over lunch at the nearly passed out first years. They’re alone at their table in the corner. Yamaguchi is normally a safe buffer, Kuroo liking him enough not to scar him for life with whatever filth is running through his head unfiltered. But Yamaguchi’s fresh undercut and septum piercing made a wing spiker Tsukishima didn’t recognize come up stuttering and asking if Yamaguchi wanted to sit with him during meals today. Yamaguchi got so red Tsukishima had to answer for him.

Now Tsukishima is staring at them across the hall. Keeping a careful eye on Yamaguchi’s expression as the second year nods and waves his hands until he looks embarrassed before Yamaguchi nods too with a laugh. The kid was sort of like Yachi. Except somehow more nervous. 

“He’s fine over there,” Kuroo hums, “People are just finally realizing that freckles is a catch.”

“He always has been.” Tsukishima says.

“Did you ever like him?” Kuroo asks, no jealousy. Thankfully. Tsukishima is too tired to deal with that.

“Yeah. he yelled at me once.”

Kuroo stares at him before bursting into cackles. “Wow, Tsukki,” He wheezes, “You little masochist.”

“That’s you.” Tsukishima emphasizes with a kick to Kuroo’s ankle. 

“Hmmm,” Kuroo leans in closer and Tsukishima knows it’s coming - “Who was the one tugging his arms just so he’d have bruises in the morning?”

Another kick. 

Tsukishima is spared from whatever else Kuroo is thinking, and the look on his face is _telling,_ because a booming, “Hey, hey, hey!!!” Echoes through the cafeteria.

Bokuto is so loud it startles the second year with Yamaguchi trying to get the nerve to hand his phone over while he’d been turned away. Poor kid.

The white haired idiot takes full opportunity of the adoration coming his way while Akaashi slips around the small crowd to make his way to Kuroo and Tsukishima. 

“Hi,” He greets softly, easy smile and bags under his eyes from a class load Tsukishima shudders at.

Conversation is easy and casual until the mini hoard of admirers disperse and Bokuto is left turning in place like a toddler. Akaashi simply raises his hand, not looking up from his rice, and Bokuto sighs a happy, “Akaashi,” Before trotting over. It’s all a little disgusting.

It’s even more disgusting when Bokuto loudly kisses Akaashi’s cheek when handed a plate of food. Kuroo groans like he’s been stabbed which, yeah, the two of them are too cute for their own good. Gross. 

“So,” Bokuto says, “What’re we doing tonight?”

“... Sleeping?” Tsukishima answers. He was kept up late enough last night. And he still has work to do.

“Booooo,” Kuroo says before turning to Bokuto, “Tsukki is still a baby -”

“Phrasing.” Akaashi cuts in along with Tsukishima’s grunt of annoyance.

“- so he can’t go to bars. I’ve got enough at home for us to have fun though.”

“Don’t we all have to be back here by six?” Tsukishima asks like he doesn’t know. He’s pretty sure they don’t.

“Aww,” Kuroo laughs, tugging him under his arm, “Think of it as practice for college.”

\-----

The four of them make it back to Kuroo’s place after another grueling day and Bokuto tries to explain that while Tsukishima beat Fukurodani, he also beat Nekoma which meant that Fukudorani beat Nekoma too. Kuroo counters that it really means Nekoma beat Fukurodani and Akaashi reminds them both that no one but Tsukishima is even still going to any of those schools. Akaashi is Tsukishima’s favorite.

“Oh,” Akaashi says as they toe off their shoes, “I almost forgot.”

He carefully opens his messenger back to pull out four small boxes. Three have chocolate cake, one has strawberry shortcake. He hands the shortcake to Tsukishima. Akaashi is _definitely_ his favorite.

“Stop trying to woo my man” Kuroo whines, but is already taking his own slice from the pile. “You’re gonna make him like you more than me.”

“There could not be a lower bar.” Tsukishima says, humming at his first bite just to watch Kuroo look upset. Hah.

With cake comes beer and with beer comes Bokuto practically _in_ Akaashi’s lap from how close he’s curling next to him. Tsukishima, normally a sold two foot perimeter, is lax enough to allow Kuroo’s side against his own. It helps that Kuroo doesn’t comment on how Tsukishima’s head falls to his shoulder. Sometimes he can read a room.

Bokuto, however, cannot. And Tsukishima chokes on his drink when he laughs, “We tried to do a threeway last week.”

“You what?!” Kuroo laughs, while Akaashi looks mildly disapproving of the topic but continues in Bokuto’s stead.

“We made a joint grindr account because we were interested in double penetration.”

Kuroo looks like he’s going to scream.

Tsukishima _clearly_ has had too much when instead of any of the six insults he has loaded, “Who agreed to bottom on that?” Comes out instead.

“I do usually, but not for that,” Akaashi says, sipping his beer and playing with the baby hairs on Bokuto’s nape. “We were looking for someone to bottom for us or a couple that would be interested in sharing.”

“No dice, beans and rice?” Kuroo still looks close to a mental breakdown.

“There’s a trust component,” Akaashi pauses for a long minute. Tsukishima was half sure he’d fallen asleep with his eyes open. “I wasn’t interested in an impromptu meet up with no discussion first, and Bokuto has to be cautious about people recognizing him now.”

“What,” Tsukishima snorts, finally recovered from his meltdown, “Do people recognize middle league spikers as famous now?”

It’s an inaccurate dig, Bokuto is steadily becoming a household name and Tsukishima knows it. But it’s enough to set off the owl eyed man into an offended rant and let the conversation of their friend’s new swinging habit die off.

Only Akaashi doesn’t fall for it as Kuroo joins in teasing the professional player. He just stares at Tsukishima over his bottle with a look that is somewhere between knowing and understanding. Tsukishima pretends he doesn’t see it. But he _does._

Akaashi is attractive in a way that doesn’t even seem real half the time. _Pretty._ He’s got a dominance to him that most people overlook. A way to read a room and take it by the reigns. Bokuto demands attention but Akaashi can take it without so much as a word.

But Bokuto, annoying as he is (and god he really is), isn’t without his own attractive qualities. Broad shoulders and a tight waist and thighs that Tsukishima would never admit to thinking about as much as he has.

Kuroo’s thought about it too. He knows. Told Tsukishima about old flings between the three of them in high school. Kisses and handjobs that were like fights between Bokuto and Kuroo and a pretty, _pretty_ setter between them. He once growled about how Bokuto once blew him while Akaashi sat on his face until his thighs were shaking around his head. Maybe it wasn’t normal to dirty talk with stories of their friends but Tsukishima came so hard he thought he went blind.

So Tsukishima knows Kuroo’s thoughts about it. Done it. And Kuroo knows he can wreck Tsukishima just by growling about it into his ear.

And somehow, once again, Akaashi knows everything going on in a room.

It’s only after Bokuto falls asleep, head in Akaashi’s lap, does he bring it up again. Maybe to spare them of Bokuto’s commentary, maybe just to keep it direct. Who knows. But Tsukishima can’t keep the warmth from his face when he feels the room shift again.

“If you two would be interested. Bokuto and I are.”

“Wow,” Tsukishima mumbles, hiding his face in a water he’d grabbed once the room started tilting, “Your poor ass, Kuroo.”

It’s the fact that no even pretends that was the situation that stings a little. 

“We don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Akaashi continues, a smile on his face at how Tsukishima got redder from the following silence at his comment. “But we trust you both and think you trust us enough if you’re interested.”

Kuroo’s eyes are wide. But his pupils are blown. Throat working as he looks between the three of them.

“Not tonight, obviously,” Akaashi hums, “Everyone should be sober and Tsukki is definitely not.”

“Hey.” Tsukishima interrupts, but nearly tips his water and quiets again.

“But tomorrow, maybe.” He gathers Bokuto to get him to brush his teeth before bed, “That is… if Tsukki thinks he could still walk for the fourth training day.”

Tsukishima is pretty sure he’s swallowed his own tongue.

\-----

“Did you know they were going to ask that?” Tsukishima whispers in Kuroo’s arms, fighting his buzz and calling for sleep to make sure this wasn’t a set up.

“No,” Kuroo hums. Lips press to Tsukishima’s crown. “They just asked why I wouldn’t invite you to stay with me if I know you’re gonna be in town.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond for a moment. “Why didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you ask me before?” He tucks his head lower to Kuroo’s neck. “You knew I was going to be here.”

“I was worried you’d say no.” 

“Idiot,” Tsukishima smacks his shoulder, arm loose and flopping around to hold his back. “I wouldn’t say no.”

The only noise is their breathing and the small fan for white noise Tsukshima got for Kuroo after he’d complained about how quiet his apartment felt after living in a dorm. 

“You don’t have to do anything, _we_ don’t,” Kuroo whispers, like they’d hear him in the other room. “Akaashi likes to tease when he’s drunk.”

That gives Tsukishima pause. “Were they kidding?”

“Oh, they were definitely _not_.” Kuroo laughs. “They both wanna see a piece of what I get to have. But they’re not gonna be weird about it if we say no. Probably asked while we were drunk just so we’d have an out.”

“Considerate.” Tsukishima snorts.

“Think about it,’ Kuroo finally amends, snuggling closer in a way Tsukishima pretends he hates and Kuroo knows he doesn’t. “Let it marinate for tomorrow. Think about how two cocks would feel while you’re trying to block us tomorrow.”

Tsukishima tries to smother Kuroo while he laughs at the blush he could _feel_ radiating off Tsukishima’s face.

\-----

Tsukishima thinks about it. He thinks about it a _lot._ Enough that they lose two games by lunch and Yamaguchi is going full captain yelling about diving drills. Tsukishima is pretty sure he’s doing it just because that second year across the net looks dazed from it. 

But the idea of Yamaguchi getting an admittedly great spiker as a possible boyfriend can only carry Tsukishima so far with his three seniors smiling at him like they _know_ why he’s missing easy cross shots.

“Ass in the air, glasses!” Bokuto yells to him, like that is appropriate phrasing for higher jumps.

Kuroo barks a laugh once he’s sure Tsukishima didn’t hurt himself from his stumbled landing. Akasshi is scolding Bokuto but his smile is telling enough. Dicks. All three of them.

But none of them say a word about it, even at lunch when they’re surrounding him. Yamaguchi saves him when he waves Tsukishima to the hallway to ask if he’s noticed the second year.

“I’ve noticed him staring at you, if that’s what you mean.”

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi startles, like Tsukishima just said something about double penetration and not frankly cute infatuation. Focus, Tsukishima.

“He tried to get your number yesterday.”

“He did?!” Yamaguchi looks horrified. “I didn’t realize. Oh my god, does he think I hate him?” 

Tsukishima smiles with a patience that only Yamaguchi deserves. “With how much you keep touching his hair I’m surprised he hasn’t blown a gasket.”

Yamaguchi chuckles and rubs the shorn edges of his head with a blush. “Was I that obvious?”

“Yeah. You’re a real slut.”

The smack he gets on the chest is worth the sting at Yamaguchi’s scandalized face. Imagine how scandalized he’d be if Tsukishima told him what - _focus,_ Tsukishima.

“Just go back in and hand him your phone. You’ll make his day.”

Yamaguchi hops in place like he’s warming up for a serve and smiles. “Thanks, Tsukishima. If you wanna talk about Kuroo, just tell me!”

“I’ll spare you.” 

Yamaguchi knows a hint when he hears one.

\-----

The second year is still holding his phone like it’s made of gold by the end of matches. Tsukishima could hear his coach yell at him for cradling it to his chest twice instead of warming up for the next game. Yeah. Yamaguchi might’ve made his year.

“What d’ya want for dinner?” Kuroo asks as they gather their gear up to meet with Akaashi and Bokuto in the parking lot.

Tsukishima keeps his face blank. “Probably something light.”

“Yeah?” Kuroo tosses a stray ball to a student collecting them. “You’re like a bird.”

“Well,” Tsukshima looks at him, “I’m gonna be pretty busy tonight. Better to not slow myself down.”

Kuroo nearly eats the pavement. Eyes gaping as Tsukishima meets his gaze evenly.

“You wanna...?”

“Yeah, that paper is gonna need my full attention,” Kuroo stares for about fives seconds before Tsukishima cracks a laugh at his face.

“Oh, you little _brat_ ,” He grins like a madman as he catches up. “You’re gonna get it,”

“Promises, promises,” Tsukishima hums like he can’t feel the heat rising up his throat.

“No, darling.” He pulls Tsukishima into a kiss once they’re free of any wandering eyes. “That’s a _threat._ ”

\-----

Tsukishima has spent a lot of time imagining how Akaashi must’ve looked between Bokuto and Kuroo. If he lost his never ending composure. If he clung to them or not. How he must’ve sounded. How _they_ must’ve sounded flanking him.

Now, with Kuroo flush to his front and Bokuto rutting against his back; Tsukishima isn’t sure how Akaashi didn’t just combust. 

Akaashi seems to think Tsukishima is doing well enough. Pressed against his side, teeth in his throat. Akaashi’s canines are sharp. Tsukishima tried to hide his first whine at how good it felt, but Bokuto’s hand found his hair before he could duck into Kuroo’s throat.

Kuroo pulls Tsukishima’s lip free from between his teeth, sucking on it himself before cooing into his gasping mouth. “Aww, Tsukki, shaking and we haven’t even started.”

“Mean, Kuroo,” Bokuto laughs, frankly alarmingly thick dick still grinding circles against Tsukishima’s shorts. 

“He likes mean,” Kuroo grabs Tsukishima’s chin, pressing his head back with Bokuto pulling his hair until Akaashi has free reign of his vulnerable throat. “Don’t you, darling?”

Tsukishima bites back a response until a sharp slap to his inner thigh from Akaashi makes a moan shake out. “Answer him.”

That was the rule Akaashi had set up. Answer all questions. If he can’t they’ll stop. Tsukishima had agreed to it as easily as the safeword he didn’t think he needed. 

“Shut up,” Tsukishima grits out. Another slap. 

“That’s not an answer.”

Now, deeper into this web Akaashi had woven, Tsukishima was sure it was more of a game than a precaution. 

“... Yes.”

Akaashi kisses beneath his ear. “Good boy.”

Tsukishima still wasn’t totally sure which two were fucking him. If they all were. If turns were going to be involved. Tsukishima didn’t go into anything without a plan. An attack strategy. But - being helpless, pinned between three people and letting whatever happens happen. 

He couldn’t say he hated it. He just hoped they wouldn’t ask and make him admit it.

Bokuto’s inhale at how Tsukishima’s dick slaps into his stomach when Kuroo tugs his shorts down makes him flush deeper. Kuroo smiling about it makes him hide his face in Akaashi’s throat. No one stops him this time, taking pity on how hard his legs are shaking and how overwhelmed he must be starting to look.

Akaashi rubs his cheek along Tsukishima’s own as they twist the youngest boy to his knees facing the setter. Akaashi’s arm wraps around Tsukishima’s waist to steady him as the other two move to kneel behind the blonde. 

“Still okay?” Akaashi asks gently, hands stroking Tsukishima’s flank when he jolts at the first finger brushing his hole.

“I…” It’s a lot. And he knows they’re all staring at him and how he’s twitching against the pad of someone’s finger rubbing against him and he doesn't even know whose hand it is and _that’s_ a lot. But he just brings his own arms up to Akaashi’s shoulders. Let’s the black haired boy take his weight as he mutters, “Yeah.” Against his skin.

The other two must’ve heard him or gotten some cue from Akaashi because on Tsukishima’s next exhale the finger sinks in to the knuckle. He flexes around the intrusion, easy enough despite the added anxiety of what it’s preparing him for.

The finger, it turns out, is Kuroo and Bokuto reappears behind Akaashi to meet Tsukishima’s gaze. Probably a good call, have the one who knows Tsukishima best to work him open. But Bokuto’s stare is piercing on the easiest of days. Right now it feels… god. But Tsukishima doesn’t look away, even as he quakes at a second finger sliding home.

“God,” Bokuto hums, voice so soft it’s hardly registering it’s Bokuto at all. “Look at you.”

Akaashi hums in agreement and Bokuto grabs Tsukishima’s hair again before he can burrow away in a warm humiliation.

“Akaashi said you’d be cute, how you’d probably scrunch your face up like when you’re reading a block. But,” He smiles. “You’re so _open_.”

“Not yet he isn’t,” Kuroo laughs with a kiss to his lower back as Tsukishima whines at the comment.

“No, no,” Bokuto says, speaking to kuroo but eyes still locked onto Tsukishima’s own. “His face. He always acts so cool and mean but I’m pretty sure he’s gonna cry in a good way.” His voice gets lower still, a rumble Tsukishima can feel in his bones. “Akaashi, can we make him cry?”

A stream of precum dribbles onto Akaashi’s leg. The setter kisses Tsukishima’s cheek like they aren’t methodically trying to flay his nerves. “If Tsukki would like that.”

Tsukishima knows it’s coming but still whimpers when Kuroo bends over him to ask.

“Would you like that, Tsukki?”

Akaashi swipes some of the cum off his leg and drags it across Tsukishima’s lower lip as he gasps out a broken, “ _Fuck,_ ”

“We’re going to do that,” Akaashi says conversationally, massaging his lip until it starts to swell beneath his touch. Bokuto looks near rabid. “We’re asking if you want us to make you cry while we do it?”

It’s the third finger wedging inside that shoves Tsukishima’s answer out of his throat, curling cruelly into his prostate as Akaashi grabs his dick. 

“Yes!” He cries, hips unable to decide if he wants mercy or more. “Yes, y-yes, I want - _fuck_ -”

Bokuto, eyes wide, slides his fingers into Tsukishima’s mouth to rub against his tongue as he helplessly moans around Kuroo, finally pushing into him. The fingers massage his mouth and hook into his cheek to pull wide as Kuroo starts an easy pace and Akaashi begins to stroke him in earnest. Tsukishima can’t muffle his moans. His squeaked cries and shuddering gasps as Kuroo takes him apart for their audience. 

“Do you want to come into my hand, Tsukki?” Akaashi asks, lips dragging against his flushed face. “Or Bokuto’s mouth?”

Bokuto groans like he’s been shot and it takes a lot for Tsukishima to not just come from _that_. “B-Bokuto,” He admits, unable to hide from how Bokuto grins at the confession. Tsukishima could tack on so he doesn’t have to see his face. So he can finally shut his mouth with something.

But they’d all know he was lying.

Bokuto disappears from Tsukishima’s peripheral as Akaashi’s hand leaves his cock to fit into his mouth instead. Tsukishima thinks for just a second about biting the digits, just to be difficult, before a wet heat closes around him and he sucks down on the fingers to hide a shriek.

“ _God,”_ Kuroo groans at how he tightens back up around him, rutting harder against him. Working him open. “Gotta loosen up, Tsukki. Gotta get you ready for two of us.” That really has the opposite effect as Tsukishima flexes around him when a finger brushes his already flushed rim. “Yeah? Like that? God, you’re gonna _gape_ when we’re done with you. See you trying to close up but we fucked you too good, too wide.”

Bokuto’s throat works around him, suction nearly unbearable.

“I’m gonna just hold your thighs wide for us,” Kuroo gasps, “Maybe if we’ve got one more in us we’ll just cum into your open hole. Your _greedy little hole-_ ”

Tsukishima comes with a shriek, clinging to Akaashi like that’ll give him any more control of his limbs. 

“Damn, dude.” Bokuto groans. “You’re gonna make _me_ come if you keep talking like that.”

Kuroo huffs a laugh, hips still now that he’s fucked Tsukishima through his orgasm. No longer stimulating, but not moving either while the blond tries to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” Akaashi asks, finger smearing spit into Tsukishima’s locks and it’s a testament to how brutally Kuroo just fucked him that he doesn’t even care. “Do you need a minute?”

Tsukishima nods and Akaashi says softly, “Alright.” And keeps stroking through his hair.

Bokuto has crawled out from beneath Tsukishima and helps steady him as Kuroo slowly slips out. Tsukishima muffles a cry into Akaashi’s shoulder and lets the three of them move him until he’s facing Kuroo.

Kuroo’s smile is soft and crooked. “Hi,”

Tsukki huffs a laugh he tries to hide behind an eye roll. “Hi.”

Kuroo leans in to kiss him and waits until Tsukishima closes the gap. It’s soft and gentle until it grows into a heated battle. Just like the first time. And just like the first time Tsukki’s leg slowly makes its way around Kuroo’s hip. Akaashi and Bokuto have to help him do it but, whatever. Wingmen. 

“Good?” Kuroo asks into the kiss, and Tsukishima sucks his lower lip between his teeth in response. 

Kuroo fucking back into him is slow going, simultaneously loose and sensitive as Tsukishima is. But the shaking has dulled and Tsukishima moans freely as Kuroo sits back on his heels and lets gravity pull Tsukishima down to the root. His hands are huge against Tsukishima’s ass, elbows crooked around his thighs to hold him steady.

Kuroo only stops kissing him when Tsukishima’s breath hitches at a wide finger slipping in beside the cock that already demands so much space.

“Shh,” He soothes, hooking his chin over Tsukishima’s shoulder to watch the finger slowly fuck him before easing in a second.

That makes the breath stutter in Tsukishima’s chest. Makes him clench tighter around the two fingers and cock and his hands dig into the meat of Kuroo’s back.

Akaashi is there, fingers so much thinner, slowly rubbing along his rim until the muscle releases its vice hold. He doesn’t stop massaging Tsukishima, no matter how high the blond whines in embarrassment. 

“That’s it,” The setter hums, “Let us in.”

Tsukishima shudders at that, cock slowly hardening between his and Kuroo’s stomach.

“Let us make you feel good,” Akaashi continues, “Let us make you cry.”

The third finger takes even longer. More soothing words and soft touches that stand opposite to how violent Tsukishima is shaking from how _wide_ he feels. How bare he feels that has nothing to do with his lack of clothing. 

Tsukishima hasn’t seen how big Bokuto is, and he’s not sure if he’s grateful or more terrified having to go on feel alone as it bumps against his rim. 

They don’t wait for a tap out, don’t ask again if he’s sure. Because Tsukishima knows they’d stop if he asked. No questions. He couldn’t imagine doing this with strangers. Letting someone see him like this; this vulnerable. They trust him to say if he needs to stop as much as he trusts that they would and, wow, feelings are a weird thing to come up a dick and three fingers deep but. Gym three was always odd. 

Two of the digits leave, the first knuckle of the third staying behind to hold him wide. Tsukishima can hear Akaashi telling Bokuto what to do, can hear Bokuto groan, “Look at _that,_ Akaashi…”

And Tsukishima isn’t sure how he can get more red but _feels_ his flush creep down to his chest when he realizes that they’re looking _inside him_. At his quaking walls and how his hole is trying to close tight around Kuroo but the finger is holding him open for them all to see. 

“You’re so cute, Tsukki,” Bokuto pants, body sliding flush to Tsukkis back, knees slotting with Kuroo’s to get close enough to - he’s gonna -

“Tsukki?” Akaashi is against his ear, hot breath ghosting the shell as he once again seamlessly takes the reins. 

It takes a few moments for Tsukishima to realize Akaashi is prompting him and a few more to get his throat to work. “Y… yeah?”

Akaashi twists the crown and Tsukishima shouts. “Ask Kuroo to make you cry.”

“K-Kuroo, please make me…” Another twist. “Make me cry,”

“Ask Bokuto.”

“Boku - _ahh_ \- Bokuto, pl-please make me cry,”

“Ask me.”

Words are starting to fail him, unable to keep up with this game even as he hurdles towards coming and if he comes they’re still _inside_ him and god - the oversensitivity alone - 

“Tsukki.”

“P-p-p-please make me cry,” He begs, voice quaking as hard as his thighs, “Please, Aka - _ah, ah -_ shi, please,”

“Such a good boy,” Akaashi hums. Still so in control despite how hard he’s pulsing against Tsukishima’s thigh. “Of course I’ll make you cry when you ask that sweet. Now breathe in.”

Tsukishima gasps for air.

“And out.”

He’s not sure exactly when he screamed. But he knows he did from how they all freeze around him. A moment of caution, of worry, and maybe it would make Tsukishima laugh at how wide Kuroo’s eyes get on any other day but right now -

“I’m good,” He gasps, feeling how tight he keeps clenching but needing them to spear him to the quick because this half thrusted in is killing him. “I’m good, I’m good, I swear, c’mon,”

“Shh,” Kuroo kisses his forehead and that makes him blush more than maybe anything all night. “I know, you’re so good, darling. I know. Just breathe, we’ll fill you up I promise.”

It’s slow and more on the edge of pain even with all the preparation and lube sliding against his thighs. But Kuroo and Akaashi and Bokuto keep petting and kissing him in a way that is just embarrassing from how warm it makes him feel if Tsukishima lets himself think about it. 

It takes a few tries to get a rhythm. But Akaashi puts a hand on Bokuto and Kuroo’s hips and rocks them into a cohesive motion that leaves Tsukishima gasping. 

Tsukishima’s hand on Akaashi’s side finds the setter’s own and locks their fingers. Needing something - _anything_ \- to ground him in this. Unable to do anything but ride the rocking motions that are steadily getting faster and deeper until Tsukishima is sure he’s going to come without anyone even _touching_ his dick. Every time he thinks he’s got air in his lungs it’s fucked back out and he jolts again and again and _again_ until he just- 

Doesn’t. 

And it’s only when he finally sinks into the sensation. Until he lets it drown him instead of fighting its current. Only then that Akaashi cups his face like he’s made of glass and Tsukishima meets his gaze. 

“Tsukki,” He breathes, “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

Tsukishima blinks, head bobbing as the other two groan at Akaashi’s whisper. “You’re,” he moans weakly, “You’re always pretty.”

Akaashi smiles sweetly. 

“Thank you,” He says earnestly, like that wasn’t the most stupid and humiliating thing Tsukishima has said in his entire life. “Would you like to come?”

“I-“ It’s already so much, and he isn’t sure he wouldn’t just _die_ from that. They have training tomorrow. He has a paper due.

“It’s okay,” Akaashi soothes, “You can come after if you’re scared. Sit on Kuroo’s face while I paint your’s.” 

“Oh, _fuck,”_ Kuroo choked and Tsukishima felt him spasm in and around him before stilling with only sporadic jerks of his hips from sensitivity. Bokuto followed a moment later with a groan bitten into Tsukishima’s shoulder. 

The two of them ease carefully out and away, laying Tsukishima’s wobbling knees to the bed before Akaashi steadies him. Standing above him. One hand on Tsukishima’s throat and the other working rapidly over his own cock. 

Tsukishima isn’t sure his legs could hold him up much longer; but a moment later a soft press drops him down. Right onto Kuroo’s waiting mouth. 

The sound that screeches out of Tsukishima doesn’t feel human. Muffled from the hand on his throat. The _noises_ Kuroo is making are filth. Tsukishima propped up on display between Kuroo and Akaashi with Bokuto sliding up behind the setter and staring down at Tsukishima’s tear stained face is humiliating in a way that makes the heat building in him nearly unbearable. 

Bokuto doesn’t look away from Tsukishima as he shoves two fingers into Akaashi, the other man groaning but keeping his eyes set on the blond beneath them. Bokuto’s pace is rapid, almost cruel, but Akaashi rides it with an intensity Tsukishima doesn’t think he could ever match.

“Tsukki -“ Is the only warning he gets before Akaashi is painting across his skin. Over lips and eyelids and then Akaashi is wiping it free from his lashes until Tsukishima can blink up at him. “Do you want to come now?”

Tsukishima is nodding before the words are even all out, but Akaashi smiles at him regardless. A smile that has only led to, admittedly begged for, cruelty. And he doesn’t disappoint now. Akaashi’s hands find Tsukishima’s shoulder and slowly but firmly presses him down onto Kuroo. Firmer, where he had been trying to shy away. 

Kuroo’s tongue presses deep, _deep_ inside and Akaashi just smiles as Tsukishima cries out. For mercy or release; he wasn’t even sure anymore. Maybe both. 

Bokuto, now kneeling beside Tsukishima, goes for his dick, but Akaashi stops him.

“Please,” Tsukishima, well past any pride, begs, “Please, I - I need -”

“You can do it.” Akaashi reasons. Like it would be easy.

“I can’t -” Tsukishima cries, “I can’t do it, please,”

“Let Kuroo make you feel good.” Akaashi whispers, one hand coming back up to the mess on Tsukishima’s face to press into his mouth. “Be good for him, _darling_.”

Tsukishima, after he’s recovered, would never admit that it was the ‘darling’ that set him over the edge. But, again… it was probably an empty argument.

The four of them end up piling between the futon and couch with how disgusting they left the bed. Tsukishima falls asleep half on top of Kuroo with Kuroo half dangling off the sofa. The next morning Kuroo whines, with a near alarming lack of bedhead, that the position made his neck hurt. If Tsukishima could walk he would’ve thrown him out the window.

Coach Ukai isn’t pleased when he has to show up with an “ankle injury”. Yamaguchi, being the only valid person in the world, doesn’t laugh too hard at him. At least he gets time to finish his paper now.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if it sucked.


End file.
